


Inevitable

by mariadperiad20



Series: ATLA Adventures [5]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Feels, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Minor Character Death, Ozai (Avatar) is an Asshole, Sokka is a good bf, Zuko is Traumatized(TM), and now he is! :D, mostly comfort, ozai can rot, the death is a good thing believe me, zuko is decidedly less thrilled about it though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:08:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24907381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariadperiad20/pseuds/mariadperiad20
Summary: Sokka's glad to finally be back in Fire Nation and spend time with Zuko. But when he arrives, Zuko seems out of sorts - and he has news of his father, Ozai, which he can't seem to reconcile.aka: 90% Sokka thinking abt comforting+comforting Zuko, 10% actual plot.
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Series: ATLA Adventures [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1795180
Comments: 20
Kudos: 367





	Inevitable

Sokka wished he could stay here, forever.

Sokka was casual, his arm linked with Zuko’s, head on his shoulder - pointedly ignoring the twitching of the guards who weren’t sure what to do with a possible assassinator cuddling the Firelord. If anything, their irritation was just galvanizing him even further, and Sokka turned to Zuko, placing his chin on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry I had to go for so long. Chief Hakoda-” He was told he had to start using professional titles, now that he was an Ambassador, couldn’t just say ‘dad’ anymore - “needed me to be an advisor in Ba Sing Se, and…” Sokka made a face, “They still barely acknowledge the war even existed, so it’s hard to get them to agree to anything war-related.”

Zuko shook his head. “It’s fine, Sokka. It’s your job. I don’t have a total claim to your Ambassadorship.” He picked up Sokka’s hand, placing a kiss on it, “Just a _near_ total one.”

Sokka rolled his eyes, even as he felt his grin grow as Zuko looked back at him with those brilliant golden eyes.

“Whatever, I still missed you, Jerklord.” He grumbled, leaning forward to capture Zuko’s mouth in his own.

It _had_ been too long. They had been separated for months, and it had begun to turn from hurting to just a constant ache at his vacancy. Sokka’d only been back for a few days, and it was already the best days of his life.

He had a sneaking suspicion it was the first time Zuko’d been touched since he had left. Who else would give the Firelord even simple human contact? Certainly not his advisors, or the guards, or even sparring partners. Fire Nation culture was weird about even friends hugging, which was insane coming from the Southern Water Tribe. And with Iroh enjoying his retirement, and old friends like Mai and Ty Lee with the Kyoshi warriors, it seemed like… well, that Zuko had been alone.

His suspicion was further proven by how Zuko had, at some point, wrapped his entire body around Sokka, as if trying to press himself as physically close to him as possible.

It was simultaneously kind of hot and definitely concerning.

But then Zuko’s hands started trembling against his back, and Sokka forced himself to pull back, feeling a twist of pain in his heart as Zuko let out a whimper at the loss of contact, before his face went red with shame.

“Woah, Zuko,” Sokka asked, “It’s alright, but are you okay? You’re shaking.”

“I’m fine.” Zuko said hoarsely, “I’m just glad to see you again.” It sounded... almost desperate.

“Yeah, but we don’t have to make out if you don’t want to.” Sokka said firmly. Something definitely seemed... out of place, for Zuko - like he had been stressing about something.

Sokka’d learned, very quickly into their relationship, that Zuko had… problems with understanding that he could set limits to stuff. He was so conditioned to just accept whatever he was given, be it too much or too little, that he wouldn’t be able to express what he wanted - or, arguably more importantly, _didn't_ want.

Memorably, the two had been making out, heavily, and Zuko had had a panic attack halfway through. But when Sokka had offered to switch to cuddling instead, Zuko had looked downright _terrified_ , and apologized so profusely that it had made Sokka suspicious of Zuko’s past - well, more suspicious, he supposed. But then, when Zuko had offered for Sokka to keep going, promising that, “I’ll cry quietly, you won’t even notice, I promise”, Sokka had gone ballistic.

Which, okay, pro-tip, boyfriend is having a breakdown, getting upset is not the best move. That was a method to making the breakdown, fun fact, substantially worse. It wasn’t that Zuko hadn’t forgiven him - he had - but more that Zuko didn’t understand _why_ Sokka was apologizing for triggering a panic attack in the first place.

It had definitely put a hold on Sokka’s plans for the evening, and he found himself alone later, racking his brain to try to find if there were other moments, other times where Zuko hadn’t wanted them to hug or kiss, but had just… remained quiet. Sokka was relieved that they’d never gone further than a heavy makeout session, if only because… well, Zuko didn’t seem to understand that consent was something he was entitled to have - Sokka, sure, but himself? He seemed to have the impression that he had no right to it.

Which was the single biggest red flag Sokka had ever seen in his entire life. And they were in the Fire Nation palace - where red flags were literally everywhere.

“I do want to kiss you.” Zuko said quietly, even as he remained still, eyes wide with something akin to apprehension.

Another thing - Zuko had a hard time instigating anything, mainly out of fear that he’d be wrong, and get punished for it. He wouldn’t ask for things he needed, and he wouldn’t say if things were getting to be too much…

It was something that made it hard to tell what Sokka should even be doing. Of course, Zuko didn’t even seem to know he was doing it, which just made the whole thing worse. It broke Sokka's heart a little, every time he remembered how much he had suffered, of why he was conditioned this way. It also made his blood boil, urging himself to slaughter those who hurt Zuko - with one memorably named Ozai - and make them suffer.

Zuko knew what happened was wrong - but he also didn't seem to reconcile that with the image of his father that he had. If Sokka were to hit him, right now… Zuko would do nothing. Hell, he’d probably apologize for having warranted it.

The thought of it made Sokka nauseous, that Zuko would just let violence befall him simply because it came from the hand of someone he cared for. He was under no illusions the kind of messed-up childhood Zuko had experienced, but every now and then the reminder of it would be staring him in the face.

Sokka hesitated. “Let’s go for a walk, okay?”

They stood, the guards awkwardly half-following them until they were outside in the palace gardens.

The moment they stepped foot into the outside, Zuko seemed to relax.

“You know, after all that time hunting the Avatar, and fighting in the war, the indoors just doesn’t really work for me. I much prefer it out here.” He freely admitted.

“Yeah,” Sokka nodded, raising their linked hands to point at a statue. “That one reminds me of Momo.”

Zuko looked at the one in question, before letting out a huff of laughter. “I’m sure my grandfather would love to know you said that.”

“With those ears? He can probably hear us from the spirit world.”

Zuko snorted, shaking his head slightly as they wandered - taking the familiar path they’d walked on for so long before Sokka had left.

Sokka wondered if Zuko still walked it when he had been gone, or if he had been unable to do so.

“Oh, by the way,” Sokka fumbled for his bag, “Iroh wanted to know when you’d visit the Jasmine Dragon. He said he’d love to keep a table open for the quote, ‘Firelord and his esteemed Ambassador’.

“Uncle will have to wait.” Zuko said firmly, although his fingers tightened around Sokka’s, “There’s still far too much to do.”

“I think you should take a break. You’ve been working nonstop since the war ended.”

“I’m not working right now.” Zuko replied with a shrug.

“I mean-”

“I know.” Zuko sighed, “Just… there’s so much harm to undo. And I correspond with Uncle via letter, seeing him in person would just make it harder. I don’t- I don’t want to see him right now.” His voice sounded… off. Almost... almost scared.

“Okay, you know what?” Sokka asked, stopping in his tracks. “You, me, spa day. Whole day, no business. Just pleasure.” He wiggled his eyebrows at that, “What do you say?”

Zuko grimaced. “It sounds great, but-”

“Do you want to?” Sokka rephrased. He had to sometimes remember if he didn’t ask something directly, Zuko wouldn’t be able to answer - afraid of requesting something, rather than accepting.

“Yes.” Zuko admitted, and Sokka couldn’t help the relieved smile that spread over his face - it was always difficult to get Zuko to relax, even when he clearly needed it.

“Then we’re doing it! Come on, clear your schedule. We’re going to have some fun if it kills us.”

“I’d prefer if we didn’t die.” Zuko said, frown on his face.

Sokka rolled his eyes, tugging on Zuko’s arm to start walking back to the palace. “No dying, I promise. That wouldn’t be very relaxing, after all.”

Zuko smiled - it was slight, but Sokka knew that, even now, it was hard for Zuko to express happiness without fear of retribution.

That was another thing Sokka had realized early on, with no small amount of concern - Zuko didn’t like saying what he enjoyed, presumably out of some fear of that thing being weaponized against him. Sokka wasn’t stupid - well, actually, he was a little bit - but he wasn’t stupid when it came to Zuko.

That was one subject he felt very confident in, actually.

Sokka leaned into Zuko’s shoulder as they walked, noticing that the near-constant tension in Zuko’s body was still there, if slightly lessened. Sokka counted that as a victory, and he squeezed Zuko’s hand, receiving one in return.

“Sokka, I-” Zuko seemed to be gathering his thoughts, “I’m glad to have you here, again. With me.”

“I’m glad to be here.” Sokka replied, nudging Zuko. “What makes you bring it up?”

“Just… I get lonely, here.” Zuko chuckled uncomfortably, free hand pushing a loose strand of hair out of his face. “And you, uh, make me feel less alone.” He seemed to be tensing back up, and rapidly so.

“Oh, yeah! Of course, no, same.” Sokka replied automatically.

Zuko shot him a skeptical glance. “You don’t need to lie. You’ve got… family and everything. ‘Chief Hakoda’, Katara, your grandmother-”

“-Gran-Gran-” Sokka interjected.

“-Yes, your… gran-gran. I don’t… there’s not… there’s no one. No family left-” Zuko’s voice broke, and he sounded distinctly close to crying.

Sokka’s brain raised some alarms - something had happened, something must have happened. With a sense of dawning, horrifying realization, asked, in a voice so quiet it was almost a whisper, “What happened?”

“My father, he, he-” Zuko barely managed to choke out, before pulling his hand out of Sokka’s grip, pulling his arms into himself. He cleared his throat, staring down a random patch of grass in an attempt to fight back some of his emotion.

When he spoke, it was detached. Oddly level - as if Zuko was giving a status report on the weather of the day - and so emotionless that it made Sokka’s skin crawl.

“Ozai is dead.” Zuko said simply, “He tried to escape prison, and… well, the guards were closing in. He tried to make a jump from the top of the inner to the outer prison wall. And he misjudged the distance.”

Sokka remained silent. He was secretly glad to hear the news, even as he would rather die than admit it to Zuko - the poor guy had so many issues surrounding his father, and sometimes Sokka couldn’t tell where the line began and ended. In fact, he had a sneaking suspicion that the line was in fluctuation - and he very much doubted it would ever fully set itself.

Another thing Sokka would never say aloud - he highly doubted Ozai would be the type to make mistakes like that. Especially when such a thing would be so deadly a mistake to make - more likely it had been intentional. But he was sure Zuko already knew that, and his decision to… choose this version of the truth would have to be enough.

So instead, Sokka just stopped, wrapping Zuko into a hug. The tension didn’t fade.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

Zuko flinched against the words, and Sokka immediately felt guilty for his word choice.

“I mean, just, we don’t have to… what do you need right now?”

“I need to not talk about it.”

“Okay, yeah, for sure.” Sokka nodded quickly, “Let’s just take it easy, yeah? Want to go back to your quarters?”

Zuko nodded, and the pair quickly walked back inside, and into the privacy of his space. Zuko’s hand - which had somehow found his again - trembling, and Sokka could practically feel the impending breakdown rising.

Sokka stopped to close the door, while Zuko wandered further into his room, flopping down onto his bed and staring, unseeingly, at the ceiling.

“Zuko, do you want me to sit with you?” Sokka asked.

Zuko nodded.

Sokka kicked off his shoes, sliding into the bed. He stayed close to Zuko, but didn’t quite touch him - touch would either be a comfort, or it would make everything worse. Even as Sokka knew more and more about how to interact with Zuko, touch was one of the few things he still couldn’t figure out with absolute certainty - and if he wasn’t completely certain, he wasn’t going to risk hurting him.

Zuko rolled over, pulling Sokka into a tight embrace. His head buried in Sokka’s chest, and his trembling hands clenched Sokka’s clothing like it was a lifeline.

“Zuko…” Sokka breathed softly, bringing up his hands, wrapping one around Zuko’s back, the other stroking his hair in a soothing motion. He blinked back tears at seeing his friend, his lover, his… everything, in so much pain and so unable to speak on it. What Zuko was afraid of, or struggling with, Sokka wanted to help him with it - but he couldn’t, not unless Zuko let him.

The pair lay there for Sokka didn’t even know how long - he had begun muttering comforting words at some point, and his voice was beginning to get sore from it - when Zuko finally spoke, face still hidden.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” His voice was thick, and clearly in pain.

“It’s alright. I just want to help you, however you need me to.” Sokka assured, not changing his position, or doing anything that could give even a hint of an implication that he was upset - lest Zuko think it was directed at him.

“It’s just… I haven’t told Uncle yet.” Zuko choked, “And I don’t know how. Or Azula - she’s doing so much better now, I don’t- I don’t know what to say. And I couldn’t tell you because I haven’t decided if I should be happy or sad.” Abruptly, he pulled back, out of Sokka’s grip, sitting up and running his hands through his now thoroughly disheveled hair. He laughed mirthlessly.

“What’s wrong with me? When I heard- heard the… news, my first feeling was of _relief_. Relief, Sokka,” He fixed Sokka with a glare, but it didn’t feel directed at him - more at himself. “What kind of son am I? I’m not… I’m not… Even after everything, I just… I still care. But I also don’t? I don’t- I don’t know. And when I don’t know what to do I ask Uncle, but he’s his brother, I can’t just… I can’t tell him that I was _glad_ he was dead. Even though I’m not glad, I’m… I feel grief, too.”

Sokka felt very much over his head. But, given Zuko’s appearance, it seemed more like he wanted to vent his feelings than have a solution.

“I didn’t want to write it to you because… well, that’d mean it’d be real, and I’d have to… deal with it. Tell Uncle. Tell Azula. Make an announcement to the Fire Nation.”

“I understand.” Sokka said gently, reaching out to Zuko’s hand - Zuko’s eyes flashed, but his shoulders lost some tension at Sokka’s touch. “It’s hard. He did a lot to you, and caused a lot of pain, but… you still felt responsible for him. It’s okay to-”

“No it’s not. I should hate him.” Zuko laughed again, and it was higher pitched, almost hysterical - Sokka realized it sounded far too much like Azula’s laugh, and it filled him with ice. “I should hate him for everything he’s done, and I do, but I… I feel so sad, too.” He shook his head, “I think I’m going insane.”

“He messed with your head. It’s… it’s not… you don’t have an obligation to him. He’s dead, his feelings don’t matter. If you want to celebrate, let’s celebrate. And, if you want to mourn, you can do that too. Those reactions aren’t exclusive.”

“That’s not… that’s not helpful.” Zuko spat, even as he looked so despaired. “I want you to tell me what to feel.”

“I’m not going to do that.” Sokka shook his head, “All of your feelings are normal, I’m not going to say which ones are better.”

“But I don’t _know_ what to feel!”

“Alright. Alright.” Sokka thought for a moment. “Okay, here’s what you’re going to do. Pick an emotion and work through it, one by one. Once you understand why you feel each one, it’ll work out. And then, I think you should write to Iroh. He should know in general, and besides that, he probably has some experience with feelings and stuff.”

Zuko laughed wetly, and Sokka was relieved that the Azula-esque manicness was gone from it.

“Now,” Sokka continued, “Those are all future-Zuko issues. For now, you’re just going to stop thinking. No thinking, at all - we’re going to spend all day just hanging out in here, I’ll wrangle up some tea from someone, and we are just going to talk about adventures. Reminiscing only. Then, tomorrow, we’ll work on the… harder stuff. For now, it’s just you, me, and this bed.”

Zuko frowned. “I can’t promise that I’m going to be able to just… stop thinking about it.”

“That’s fine, it’s not a requirement. It’s just you and me, and we’re going to do our best. We’re going to try, alright?”

“Yeah, I can try.” Zuko replied, frown vanishing in exchange for a sad little smile.

“Great.” Sokka tried for a smile of his own, opening his arms in a welcome.

Zuko didn’t hesitate to tuck himself back into Sokka’s arms. This time, there was no desperation, no trembling as if Sokka was going to vanish under his hands, just a certain vulnerability. Once again, Sokka was floored by how much Zuko trusted him, that even after all of his pain - much of it at Ozai’s hand - he was still capable of trusting at all. Let alone feel distraught over the man's death.

Sokka closed his eyes, pulling Zuko just a little bit closer into his chest. He didn’t want to have to inevitably let go.

He didn't want to ever let go.

**Author's Note:**

> I meant to write a fluff fic for Zukka but then I was like 'oh wait that's right, i'm an angst queen' and now here i am :)
> 
> i love comments! they make my day :D  
> also i take requests on tumblr (same username)


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